What I learned from retyping The Speckled Band

This is in reference to this thread: http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/showpost.php?p=1590373&postcount=1

So here's my first follow-up on taking up Uncle Jim's crazy (but not really so crazy) advice on retyping a chapter, short story, etc from an author you admire.

Why retype.... well, I've read all my books. That's mainly the problem; when you read, even if you read with a writer's eye, you don't always catch everything that's going on. If it's a really good book, after about paragraph three you don't care about reading with a writer's eye anymore, and away you go.

Once you've read a book, and you return to it again, you tend to scan until you hit the good parts. If it's a good book/story to re-read, even all of it, away you go again.

One other thing: it helps if you've read other good books about the craft of writing itself. Works like "Self Editing for the Fiction Writer", "The First Five Pages", "How to Write a Damn Good Novel", "Techniques of the Selling Writer", "Characters and Viewpoint", etc. You learn what to look for, and why it might be there. And in retyping, you get to put this knowledge into practice; the other way is to straight off start writing, which is much harder and you tend to forget a lot of principles on the way. In retyping, someone has already taken all the effort; you are following in their footsteps.

Right. So, what I learned from retyping The Speckled Band....

First: it's quite alright to not start out running from the start, as long as you're able to pull the reader in with foreshadowing (and just all around decent writing):

On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I have during the last eight years studied the methods of my friend Sherlock Holmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large number merely strange, but none commonplace; for, working as he did rather for the love of his art than for the acquirement of wealth, he refused to associate himself with any investigation which did not tend towards the unusual, and even the fantastic. Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall any which presented more singular features than that which was associated with the well-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran.

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Starting slowly for beginning writers (i.e. me) is a problem because we don't hook the writer in from the start, however subtly.

Here, Doyle (or, as those who like to play The Game, Watson) is implying, with the color of a Watson voice, that the case you're about to read is going to be one of Holmes's interesting cases---and since the first sentence covers a bit of Holmes's eclectic tastes with respect to picking out what jobs to handle, you know this has a good chance of being weird. And then you hit the last sentence, and you know for sure this will be weird. It's classic build-up.

Hmmm, you say. On, you read (or type)....

After providing slightly more background in just a couple sentences (alluding to more stragosity and singularness), note that Doyle is a very weird Victorian writer, because he immediately hits the first scene:

It was early in April in the year '83 that I woke one morning to find Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He was a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the mantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarter-past seven, I blinked up at him in some surprise, and perhaps just a little resentment, for I was myself regular in my habits.

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One definition of scene I ran cross (in Self Editing for Fiction Writers): a) happens in real time, b) happens in a real place, c) has specific characters. Especially a lack of (a) means that you're telling.

Starts slow, but there's already conflict to keep you interested. A lesser writer (i.e. me) might have left out the bit where Watson was annoyed, but starting out with his annoyance at being roused early is still conflict---subtle conflict. It makes you wonder what bickering might happen next, or more to the point, why Holmes is bothering Watson so early in the morning. A story question, I believe Frey calls it in Writing a Damn Good Novel.

Scenes without conflict risk falling flat. Scenes that keep up some sort of conflict drag you in. Explains so bloody much about my own writing.

On with the motley:

"Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said he, "but it's the common lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon me, and I on you."


"What is it, then--a fire?"


"No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerable state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She is waiting now in the sitting-room. Now, when young ladies wander about the metropolis at this hour of the morning, and knock sleepy people up out of their beds, I presume that it is something very pressing which they have to communicate. Should it prove to be an interesting case, you would, I am sure, wish to follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that I should call you and give you the chance."

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Dialogue follows very quickly We're not even five paragraphs in. Again, Doyle showing off his modern flavor.

I think in The First Five Pages, an agent was mentioned who scans through pages for the first dialogue scene and reads that before he reads your first five. Dialogue is difficult to do, perhaps one of the most difficult of the showing methods (for they are all harder than the telling methods, which is why the shortcut of tell is so tantalizing), so a writer who can get it right has potential. A writer who doesn't.... and of course it helps if he doesn't have to dig into page 20 to find your first bit of dialogue.

Dialogue not only informs, but it also is one of the best show methods for character. In these two paragraphs, not only is the plot advanced, but we already get a sense of Holmes's sense of humor---something that gets strangely forgotten these days. It contrasts strongly with the Watsonian voice, which we'll see later as well. We would recognize Holmes vs Watson in a dark room.

Another important thing to note---which also contributes to the showing of character---is that the dialogue is not direct (another reference to Frey). Here's the example with direct dialogue:

"Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said he, "but it's an emergency."

"What is it, then--a fire?"

"No; a client. A considerably excited young lady has arrived and insists upon seeing me. I presume she has something interesting to communicate. Should this prove to be an interesting case, I thought you might be interested."

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Bad dialogue scene, STAT! Someone has removed all the bubbly! Flat like flat champagne, which is very flat indeed. The back and forth and wit in the original version we like much better. It's also much harder to come up with; it's one of those things that drives an author crazy. But it's the little details that count.

Okay, before I reach some entry limit, I'll post this, and continue.

Sorry for forgetting this bit of dialogue:

"My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything."

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It's of course the resolution for the first scene in the story.


Continuing on our merry way:

I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his professional investigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as intuitions, and yet always founded on a logical basis with which he unravelled the problems which were submitted to him. I rapidly threw on my clothes and was ready in a few minutes to accompany my friend down to the sitting-room. A lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who had been sitting in the window, rose as we entered.

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Okay, this is obviously telling. But it's the right place for telling: connecting two scenes (the second of which will be very large), and modifying pace.

"Good-morning, madam," said Holmes cheerily. "My name is Sherlock Holmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I am glad to see that Mrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light the fire. Pray draw up to it, and I shall order you a cup of hot coffee, for I observe that you are shivering."

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You may see a Tom Swifty here. Is it? Well, Doyle doesn't do this very often. Here I take it to mean "in a cheery voice", which does modify how Holmes is speaking, a modification not entirely evident from the dialogue.

Also notice that some action is embedded in the dialogue; or, rather, a reaction is embedded in dialogue that implies some other action, not previously mentioned, that the speaker is reacting to. This can remove needless duplication and keeps things rolling along. In all things, moderation, of course.

"It is not cold which makes me shiver," said the woman in a low voice, changing her seat as requested.


"What, then?"


"It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror." She raised her veil as she spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable state of agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with restless frightened eyes, like those of some hunted animal. Her features and figure were those of a woman of thirty, but her hair was shot with premature grey, and her expression was weary and haggard. Sherlock Holmes ran her over with one of his quick, all-comprehensive glances.

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Build-up at work again. Now, describing the client: Watson does not launch into full-blown detail, but describes just enough to get the important details. Every detail is focused on one point---to communicate her fear. Nothing about beautiful eyes and luxurious locks and perfect skin with a mole on one cheek here. That would be straying and distracting.

"You must not fear," said he soothingly, bending forward and patting her forearm. "We shall soon set matters right, I have no doubt. You have come in by train this morning, I see."

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Do we need the soothingly? Probably not. Be thankful that Doyle does not do this sort of thing often at all. The beat (Self Editing for Fiction Writers) of Holmes leaning forwards and patting her forearm, and his reassurances, are enough to show us that aspect.

"You know me, then?"


"No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palm of your left glove. You must have started early, and yet you had a good drive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads, before you reached the station."

The lady gave a violent start and stared in bewilderment at my companion.


"There is no mystery, my dear madam," said he, smiling. "The left arm of your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than seven places. The marks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save a dog-cart which throws up mud in that way, and then only when you sit on the left-hand side of the driver."

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Swain calls this action/reaction. Holmes observes, client reacts, usually in progressive stages of surprise (and no, it doesn't go on too long). This technique spices up what fans of the Canon call "the impress-the-client deductions", that would otherwise be very boring. There are very few instances of Holmes in the Canon deducing for paragraphs on end without an interjection from somebody to break up the otherwise monotonically increasing monotony and keep us interested in what he has to say.

(There are some pastiches where Holmes does exactly that. Sometimes all in one paragraph that spans a couple pages. It makes me want to shoot myself through the head.)

Okay, now we'll skip through some more build-up, in which the client shows the awe that Holmes's customers usually show him (reinforcing Watson's perception of Holmes as His Deductiveness), and which doesn't go on for more than a couple paragraphs. But it makes me grateful that Rex Stout took a different approach (more action/reaction or just plain narrative summary), and now I know why. No skipping through material when you're typing. Feel that pain.

My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who is the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in England, the Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of Surrey."

Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar to me," said he.

"The family was at one time among the richest in England....

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And thus we launch into narrative summary, quite a bit of it, to set up the story within a story. If this were a novel rather than a short story, this would be showing; as it is, it is nicely done telling, with some showing, and communicates the details. But then again when you have at most 12,000 words to work with, you need to do something about it.

Through the narrative, there is action/reaction in the form of Holmes asking questions (but not too many). But you can kind of see the motive behind all the cozies and PIs and nosy gentlemen like Poirot and go-getters like Archie Goodwin. Avoiding this narrative, even if there are spates of scene in it, is good for both reader and writer, neither of whom wish to be bored. So you drop someone in the middle of it all.

In fact, Doyle did this in The Hound of the Baskervilles, a full-out novel, where he drops Watson smack dab in the middle of the action. Hound is the best seller of the Canon, and the Canon sells.

And now I have a friend to entertain (and breakfast to eat) so I'll continue this later tonight.

Alright, friend is gone, the binaural white noise is off, and The Section Quartet is on.

Time to tackle some scary narrative summary. The reason Doyle does not fall flat on his face here is because his summary has what is termed by Frey "rising conflict": progressively, you turn the tension up. Let's see how our narrative turns the heat up: in just a couple sentences from pondering the estate and history thereof (plus this is British literature: particularly in the Victorian age, this kind of thing matters as much as career history does to us), we start:

...In a fit of anger, however, caused by some robberies which had been perpetrated in the house, [my stepfather] beat this native butler to death and narrowly escaped a capital sentence.
<skip>
... Shortly afterour return to England my mother died -- she was killed eight years ago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott the abandoned his attempts to establish himself in practice in London and took us to live with him in the old ancestral house at Stoke Moran.
<skip>
... Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbours, who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back in the old family seat, he shut himself up in his house and seldom came out save to indulge in ferocious quarrels with whoever might cross his path.
<less to skip>
... A series of disgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended in the police-court, until at last he became the terror of the village, and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man of immense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger.
<no skip>Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a stream, and it was only by paying over all the money which I could gather together that I was able to avert another public exposure.

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This actually cuts back into the present parlor scene with dialogue again, clarifications and so on. Again, pacing---for Doyle is going to wind things up again, and he needs us a bit settled down before he does so.

... She left her room, therefore, and came into mine,where she sat for some time, chatting about her approaching wedding. At eleven o'clock she rose to leave me, but she paused at the door and looked back.

'Tell me, Helen,' said she, 'have you ever heard anyone whistle in the dead of the night?'

'Never,' said I.

'I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, in your sleep?'

'Certainly not. But why?'

'Because during the last few nights I have always, about three in the morning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, and it has awakened me. I cannot tell where it came from perhaps from the next room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would just ask you whether you had heard it.'

'No, I have not. It must be those wretched gypsies in the plantation.'

'Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that you did not hear it also.'

'Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.'

'Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.' She smiled back at me, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard her key turn in the lock.

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We've gone from a feeling that things are wrong in general, to a foreshadowing of the final events of the night.

<skip>
Suddenly, amid all the hubbub of the gale, there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified woman. I knew that it was my sister's voice. I sprang from my bed,wrapped a shawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my door I seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, and a few moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had fallen. As I ran down the passage, my sister's door was unlocked, and revolved slowly upon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken, not knowing what was about to issue from it. By the light of the corridor-lamp I saw my sister appear at the opening, her face blanched with terror, her hands groping for help, her whole figure swaying to and fro like that of a drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at that moment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. She writhed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were dreadfully convulsed. At first I thought that she had not recognized me, but as I bent over her she suddenly shrieked out in a voice which I shall never forget, 'Oh, my God! Helen! It was the band! The speckled band!'

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The end of the rising conflict, and the climax of the story within a story. Her sister dies in agony, and the local coroner, though concerned that Roylott may have murdered her sister, can find no obvious causes of death.

Only at this point does Holmes interrupt again. Doyle paces the inner story by breaking out into the outer story, and manages to keep everything moving: the inner story continues moving forwards because Holmes only breaks in between scenes, taking the place of sequel; the outer story keeps moving forwards in parallel because of these breaks.

She ends her story, and Holmes ponders. But Doyle won't let the situation wind down, with the conclusion of the inner story in the past, as a lesser writer (i.e. me) would:

"You have done wisely," said my friend. "But have you toldme all?"

"Yes, all."

"Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening yourstepfather."

"Why, what do you mean?"

For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace which fringed the hand that lay upon our visitor's knee. Five little livid spots, the marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed upon the white wrist.

"You have been cruelly used," said Holmes.

The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. "He is a hard man," she said, "and perhaps he hardly knows his own strength.

"There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin upon his hands and stared into the crackling fire.

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She's told us that she and her sister lived hard lives under her stepfather, but this single moment in time demonstrates the depths of these still waters better than any narrative summary could have. We know she's in danger. We care more and worry. Without this passage, reader sympathy would have been diminished.

Additionally, this passage could not have come earlier and had the same effect; it's only until we know more of the context that this can come and be the final clincher in a series of rising conflicts, the knock-out punch.

Holmes agrees to investigate, Watson agrees to come along, the client is relieved and departs, Holmes and Watson brainstorm what may be going on---and Doyle expresses this all as a full-fledged scene throughout. Why not narrative summary? Because if he keeps it moving along in the present, the suddenness of the stepfather's arrival keeps its impact---as he arrives nearly on the heels of his stepdaughter:

... our door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had framed himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar mixture of the professional and of the agricultural,having a black top-hat, a long frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand. So tall was he that his hat actually brushed the cross bar of the- doorway, and his breadth seemed to span it across from side to side. A large face, seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow with the sun, and marked with every evil passion, was turned from one to the other of us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his high,thin, fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance to a fierce old bird of prey.

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Watson devotes more descriptive detail to our Villain, but every word is chosen carefully, geared towards impressing upon us the malevolence of the man.

"Which of you is Holmes?" asked this apparition.

"My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me," said mycompanion quietly.

"I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran."

"Indeed, Doctor," said Holmes blandly. "Pray take a seat."

"I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I have traced her. What has she been saying to you?"

"It is a little cold for the time of the year," said Holmes.

"What has she been saying to you?" screamed the old manfuriously.

"But I have heard that the crocuses promise well," continued my companion imperturbably.

"Ha! You put me off, do you?" said our new visitor, taking a step forward and shaking his hunting-crop. "I know you, yous coundrel! I have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler."

My friend smiled.

"Holmes, the busybody!"

His smile broadened.

"Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!"

Holmes chuckled heartily. "Your conversation is most entertaining," said he. "When you go out close the door, for there is a decided draught."

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Yes, there are Tom Swifties. Let's ignore them because they are a) few and b) the story carries us over these little concerns, which are the only problems with this dialogue.

No question of whether conflict exists or not, and it is rising, in terms of Roylott's fury and Holmes's cheerful, effortless defiance. This dialogue is for character mostly, but also for threat and because we need to get the villain moving on the board.

"I will go when I have said my say. Don't you dare to meddle with my affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am a dangerous man to fall foul of! See here." He stepped swiftly forward, seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands.

"See that you keep yourself out of my grip," he snarled, and hurling the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the room.

"He seems a very amiable person," said Holmes, laughing. "I am not quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him that my grip was not much more feeble than his own." As he spoke he picked up the steel poker and, with a sudden effort, straightened it out again.

"Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the official detective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation, however..."

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One of the best denouements.

The story now hits its stride, and I will only make a one more comment....

At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove for four or five miles through the lovely Surrey laries. It was a perfect day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the heavens. The trees and wayside hedges were just throwing out their first green shoots, and the air was full of the pleasant smell of the moist earth. To me at least there was a strange contrast between the sweet promise of the spring and this sinister quest upon which we were engaged.

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This is about the perfect amount of description you need to experience the spring day with Watson, which is not very much. There are no overused cliches, no overly poetic phrasing, and appeals to more than just the visual sense; the sense of smell is particularly grounding. It follows the advice of the only writing book I ever picked up that had a useful section on writing about places (and other topics), Zinsser's "On Writing Well", which is about writing non-fiction but there exists grave overlap between the two worlds, and one of them is definitely writing about locations.

And now I will stop here. But hopefully you can see where the typing and thinking helps.

Niteowl said:

Fantastic post!

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Thanks! I fixed the newlines/returns in the last post. So sorry about that. Something went wrong with the pasting.

Niteowl said:

Oh, by the by, which books on writing did you particularly like?

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My favorites are, apart from Strunk & White:

_Self Editing for Fiction Writers_, which is priceless and something no fiction writer should be without, because it shows you what agents and editors look for in writing. All the bases are covered here: telling vs. showing, P.O.V., dialogue, and additional topics not usually covered by these here boards.

_The First Five Pages_, also priceless because, obviously, it shows you what agents look for in the first five pages. Also includes tips like when to describe, the best way to end chapters and lead into the next, and others.

I'll note that some of the best writing books on writing technique are written by editors and agents. For obvious reasons.

Among the books written by writers:

_Techniques of the Selling Writer_. It's dated a bit, but the advice there is sound, and he focuses on narrative technique, in detail. Of the three books listed in this section, his is the most thorough. He covers everything from getting a "starting lineup" for your story (akin to a high concept) to characters and dialogue, to navigating plot from beginning to end, is the classic source for action/reaction "units" and the pairing of scene and sequel, as well as an ending section on the practical matters of writing---preparing your work, for instance.

_Characters & Viewpoint_. Probably the best book on developing and working with characters (which almost always necessitate a discussion on viewpoint as well, since viewpoint is told through characters). I didn't like the other books in this series (like _Beginnings, Middles, and Endings_; I feel those are better served by _Techniques of the Selling Writer_). Nothing else I've read covers this all as well, although I am tempted to say that _The Importance of Feeling Inferior_ is better for establishing driving motives. (_Inferior_ is out of print and very, very dated.)

_How to Write a Damn Good Novel_. A very compressed book that covers some novel narrative techniques, like the rising conflict that is only touched upon by _Techniques_. First book that made it clear to me the difference between good and flat dialogue; no other has. Also where you want to go to see the difference between theme and premise, which is not covered by any other book in this section. In fact, later this week maybe I'll go add some more entries to this thread to cover the premise of _Speckled Band_. Premise is what ties your work together and gives it focus.

I'll note that some of the best writing books on narrative technique are written by fiction writers. For obvious reasons.

I discovered on the non fiction side:

_On Writing Well_. The bread and butter of non-fiction is more suited for telling than showing, however non-fiction writers have a more difficult row to hoe in terms of a) getting things right, b) platforms---which Frey in _Damn Good Novel_ calls a premise, c) describing people, places, etc. Plus being able to tell well is also important for fiction writers---good tell scenes give you non-boring pacing. Describing places is hard to do well, and easy to do poorly with tired cliches and not covering the important points that make the location come to life. A good perspective on Strunk & White and the difficulty of writing well, too.

Oh... I'm also fond of Swain's _Techniques of the Selling Writer_ because he covers why writers should not be afraid of reading (good) books about writing, or think that it's weak. It's sensible; certainly more sensible than traveling down the road of pain to learn that you shouldn't write Tom Swifties, or the basic principles behind writing effective scenes, or to learn how to show and not tell.

Writing is already hard enough.

By the way, _Self Editing_ has the best exercises and examples for taking passages and turning them around. It is the perfect book for rewrites. In fact, there is one example of the problem of multiple POVs that I did not realize was a multiple POV problem---and you'd think you could catch that thing easily. And there is one show-from-tell exercise, where you take a tell passage and turn it into show, that is the best thing to read if you wonder how to do that sort of thing. It was literally like waving a magic wand!

As for all these books, either take notes or use some kind of nice bookmarking system. The points they cover are many and it is easy to forget them.

And of course, read Uncle Jim's thread, as he covers the modern pragmatic aspects of writing in addition to great suggestions for exercises, non-writing books to read that nevertheless are in some way attached to narrative techniques, as well as narrative technique itself.